


Bruise

by AutisticWriter



Series: One-Word Whump Prompts [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bruises, Concussions, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Whump, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Ross falls from his horse. Milton helps, fussing a bit more than necessary.
Relationships: Andrew Milton/Edgar Ross
Series: One-Word Whump Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871002
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Bruise

The worst things in life always hit you out of nowhere. Such as when his horse rides straight into a concealed log, and the sudden jolt sends Ross flying from his saddle.

“Shit!” he cries, hearing Milton say something but not processing what.

And even though he should be more worried about the ground flying towards him, he instead focuses on the strange sense of weightlessness as he tumbles through the air. At least, until he hits the ground, pain shooting up his arms as his hands take the force of the fall, palms tearing against the dirt. And then his forehead slams against the ground, agony exploding through his head like he was hit by a train, and everything goes black.

\---

_Is he dead? Please say he isn’t dead._

That is the only thought that swirls around his brain as Milton climbs down from his horse, staring at Ross’ prone form, the sound of Ross slamming into the ground echoing in his ears. Without hitching his horse (and leaving all his weapons on his saddle), Milton runs straight over to Ross, dropping to his knees beside him.

Carefully, as though Ross might fall apart if he is too rough, Milton rolls Ross onto his back, and when he spots the rise and fall of Ross’ chest, pure relief unravels the tension in his guts. But Ross is out cold, the sleeves of his jacket torn, grazes across both palms, blood oozing from the tiny cuts, and grass stains and dirt all over his clothes and skin. And, most disturbingly of all, a hideous bruise patterns his forehead, a lump straining beneath red, swollen, grazed skin, and Milton finds himself wondering if Ross might die from a severe blow to the head just like the many cases he has heard about.

Thankfully, as he holds Ross’ shoulders, his partner starts to come around, eyelids flickering slowly and a groan rumbling in his throat. Ross blinks, grimacing in pain, and stares up at Milton with unfocused eyes. “Ugh, fuck, my head hurts.”

Indeed, that bruise must hurt like hell.

When Milton doesn’t reply, too busy staring at his very-much-alive partner, Ross mutters, “Andrew? Hello?”

“Sorry,” he says, snapping out of it. And after quickly checking that no one is around, Milton leans closer and whispers, “I thought you died.”

“Afraid you’re out of luck there,” Ross says, smirking.

Milton chuckles, glad Ross feels well enough to be his usual cocky self. “You look like shit.”

“Charming.”

“Come on,” Milton says, holding out a hand. “We should take you to a doctor.”

“It’s not that bad,” Ross says, but he has to grit his teeth as he extends his arm, biting back a wince.

“Don’t make me pull rank,” Milton says, clasping his subordinate’s grazed hand and provoking another wince as he squeezes. “Apologies, Edgar.”

“Fine, fine,” Ross mumbles, jaw still gritted, as Milton helps him stagger to his feet. “Ugh, shit…” Milton watches Ross stumble, legs wobbling and eyes going out of focus, and wraps an arm around his back to keep him upright.

“Are you okay?” Milton asks, showing the kind of concern he only has for people he truly cares for—and only when they are alone, as nobody can see Agent Andrew Milton show any sort of vulnerability.

After a few seconds, Ross opens his eyes, but still looks very disorientated, only staying upright under Milton’s grasp. “Just… went dizzy. I’m fine now.”

Somehow, Milton doesn’t believe him. “Still, I think you should ride with me.”

Ross glares at him, but doesn’t argue. “Fine.”

And as they make the slow walk to Milton’s horse, Milton never lets go of Ross, gripping him harder than necessary as he helps him stay on his feet. But Ross doesn’t complain, accepting the assistance.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WriterAutistic)


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